I’ve described the 24 Hours of LeMonsas a Halloween Party with cars, and Chump Carwill soon take this description to its natural conclusion with a “race” at Portland International Raceway Oct 31 – Nov 1, 2009.
Background: LeMons has been around since 2006 and is immensely popular in the car guy community. My understanding has been that “LeMons” events have been in such high demand that there just hasn’t been room on the schedule for a Northwest race. And, it seems that maybe we’re not the only place being left off of the schedule.
So, Chump Car is born. The biggest difference I can see, at this point, is that it seems speeds are going to be higher in a Chump Car race (but not too high) – so, kind of like a Conferenceevent. I think they get away with calling it a race because they will be using transponders, and if they wanted to use that information for scoring, they could…
potentially fast car with shark theme - will the judges fall for this old trick?
There is a difference between an “activity” and a “race”, and it is important to understand what those differences might be. If Lemons and Chump Car were really races, then the primary purpose would be to have a race – but, that’s not the primary purpose and everybody knows it.
There is no reason to believe that this isn’t simply going to be a Halloween party with cars. Before the race even starts cars will be credited or penalized laps based on important “racing criteria” like team theme and costumes, and the amount of school supplies donated to a particular charity. The information gathered by the transponders can be “corrected” at any time and for any reason – again, just like Conference.
The promoters are very up front about the fact that they may, again, at any time, for any reason, mess with your “race car” just because they would enjoy it.
transformation from "red meat" to harmless bird
So, the Miatacage.com race team is in possession of the 2007 Thunderhill LeMons winning car. The then recently acquired, totaled (complete, save the broken cam shaft) and purchased for $200, 1999 Mazda Protégé, was then known as Team Red Meat and Poontang – it was really cool when the track announcer said the team name on the loud speaker (once).
consensus is that we'd all still date her
For Chump Car, the team has gone with a Partridge Family theme – something about 6 dates in 24 hours with Laurie (who didn’t have a crush on Susan Dey in 1973..?). We’re all pretty excited about this.
The driving line-up for this grand adventure is made up of crew members of the nearly successful, go-til-ya-blow, 2008 25 Hours of Thunderhill Miatacage.com team. The Miatacage.com “over the wall-stars” are Brian Clemons, Ed Pavone, Dave Sutherland, Kevin Clark, Garth (Crusher) Levin and Jeff Jenks. They didn’t spill any fuel or make other mistakes at the 25 – lets see if they can keep the fenders on the Partridge Bus…
I’m not going to be of much use (unless there is a mid-event break for a walker race), so I’ll probably just hang out in the motor coach and watch the silliness (read: experiment with new cocktail recipes). I love seeing people drive on the race track (in anger) for the first time, and there is going to be a lot of that going on. I’ll be there just to see the looks on my friends faces both before and after their big racing debuts – I can’t wait.
Alpenrose is the first race in the Cross Crusade cyclocross series that the promoters claim is the largest “cross” series on the planet – I have no reason to doubt that. This would be my first time racing this venue and I was very much looking forward to it as it is generally regarded as the best cross venue in the Northwest.
My preparations were mostly the same as for any other race – it is important for me not to feel rushed, and I didn’t. I had arrived a couple of hours early and the Mountain View Cycles team had set up a paddock along the course near the wheel pit. Cross racing is fun in that there are many races during the day and many opportunities to cheer on friends and teammates.
I had completed my checklist in time for the scheduled recon 1 hour before my race. I could then do 30 minutes of warm-up and get to the staging area with time to secure a reasonable starting position.
I was thinking to myself that there was an unusual amount of hard surface (black top and concrete) on this course, and was slightly concerned about the grip level. The recon was good for exploring that a bit, and as the course was relatively clean, the grip level seemed pretty good – which is right when everything went wrong.
Approaching a stairway run-up there was some slightly damp dirt in the dismount zone just before a small curb. Even though I was taking things slowly, I mistimed my get-off. My left foot didn’t release exactly as I had expected (a result, I think, of being too careful) and I went straight to the ground.
I quickly popped back up to continue the lap but was unable to put much weight on my left foot. I figured I had simply knocked the wind out of myself and possibly had a groin pull – I just needed to shake it off and do some spinning on the trainer…
Yeah, maybe not so much. It was stiffening to the point that I couldn’t lift my leg over the seat, so I began hobbling my way back toward the Mountain View compound. I saw Kristi Dirks and Amy Moody and they informed me that I “didn’t look so good”. Karl Mikkelson was close by and suggested (brilliantly, as it turns out) that he should go get my car.
I was still pretty sure that it was just a strain and that if I could drive I would make my way toward Seattle (where I was planning to work Monday). I could depress the clutch with only a small amount of pain so I hit the road.
The up-side is that I would now be able to stop at PIR and watch the final race of the Oregon SCCA Spec Miata championship which had come down to the final race between my friends Will Schrader and Joey Atterbury. I stopped at the track and was able to get out of my cycling cloths and into something more comfortable. My leg was feeling better.
It was feeling better until I stopped to stretch about an hour later – it still wouldn’t take much weight. When I got to my mom and dad’s house, mom had done some research on hip injuries and I was able to see that I didn’t have all of the symptoms of a fracture. So, I had a snack and a beer and did a little bit more research. I really don’t like hospitals, and I certainly don’t want to be “that guy” who shows up in the ER with a stubbed toe.
I couldn’t find anything to convince me that I had a strain, sprain or anything besides a fracture, and reading between the lines it was clear that a fracture was better identified immediately. Mom drove me to Overlake hospital to have it looked at.
It didn’t take long for the x-rays to come back and there was, indeed, a fracture. The ER doc explained to me that this was the type of thing he wanted the orthopedic surgeon to make the call on – and that the call would very likely be to proceed with surgery tonight.
The surgeon had a very confidence inspiring way about him. He explained what the issues were and why it was best that we not wait – there can be vascular complications with this type of injury that are best avoided. I had never spent the night in a hospital before, or broken any bones – I need to do something about my bike handling skills…. But, first things first.
Surgery went off without a hitch, the OR staff and doctors were all awesome. I must say that it is a surreal experience to be wheeled through an empty hospital and into and under the bright lights of an operating room late on a Sunday evening. But ,like I said, the surgeon had left me with an excellent first impression and most importantly, my mom (an effective health care advocate) was there to handle decisions that were soon to be outside my capabilities – here we go…
The anesthesiologist put me on a med that would put me to sleep – he said something about a “slight” burning sensation. Thankfully, I went down quickly because that stuff burned like heck.
The next thing I knew I was awake – the surgery had taken only half an hour (which I think is a sign of no surprises) and I now had three “deck screws” holding the top of my femur together.
As I write this I sit in my hospital room all jacked-up on caffeine and Percocet (the othopedic surgury equivalent of Red Bull and Vodka) having been through one successful round of physical therapy and waiting for lunch. If PT goes well this afternoon I may be released to the care of my saintly mother – I don’t just live my life like an irresponsible teenager, I generously share the experience with mom, as well…
I’m thankful for a lot of things right now, not the least of which is that this is the result of my stupid mistake (inattentiveness) and not somebody else’s, and also that I didn’t hurt anybody else in the process. I’ve always found it easier to accept injuries and crashes when they are the result of my errors and when I didn’t take somebody else with me.
Thank you also to my many cycling friends and teammates for their well wishes and offers of support – I really appreciate it. I will find a way to positively feed off of this and come back stronger than ever. I might even be able to be Andrew’s lead out man by April. That’s my plan and I’m sticking to it this time.
I don’t know exactly where this cross thing is going, but I’m pretty sure that it will change me as a bike rider. I think if I survive it that it will be a change for the better.
First, I would like to thank the medic in the First Aid tent – he was a really nice guy and spent all the time necessary to pick the many blackberry thorns out of my arms, legs and face. While he was doing that I had an opportunity to explain to the audience of fascinated young onlookers how important bicycle helmets are – yes, I used up another one this day.
The race was called the “Battle at Barlow” – Cross races have names, just like the 24 Hours of Lemons races do, that give the impression something magnificent or spectacular will occur, so they must not be missed. Like almost all of the other races this year will be, it was a first for me. The unique feature at Barlow is the “run-up” which is a series of maybe ten 2 foot high steps of rail road ties. I’ll talk about the ride down into the gully that you climb up out of later.
These guys make it look easier than it seemed at the time…
There was a smaller than usual contingent of the Mt View team at Barlow, but still a group of at least 10 riders. I had a chance to watch the Masters C race that included teammates Tony Dirks, Eric Moody, and Gregg Leion and then to pre-ride the course (I didn’t pre-ride Double Cross #1 and it cost me – note to self…). My pre-race preparations had gone precisely to plan – If you’ve heard one of my ridiculous lectures to driving teammates or students about planning, you know how important this is to me…
Also, this time I didn’t let all of the line-cutters barge their way past me and I successfully secured a front row start position – SWEET!!! That’s another item off the checklist – now I just need to ride the bike. Easier said than done…
The first couple of laps went pretty well – I was just riding along battling with a few of my newly found 50+ nemeses and having a grand ole time… As we worked our way into the back of the Masters B’s passing was uneventful, as most of the course was pretty wide… most.
To climb out of a ravine, first you must ride into it. There is a trail that runs downhill along a fence to get us there. Near the bottom there is a barrier to force us off the bikes so we won’t try to ride down the steepest little bit and into the creek that separates the “down” part from the “up” part. This is where I had my problem – “battle” if you prefer…
I had passed all but two of a group of 6 riders in a safe area between the start line and the beginning of the drop toward the railroad ties. This was a trail that follows a fence line to the right and a hill on the left that is easily ride-able in many parts. The second of the two riders passed the first and I followed (with a voice warning). I would have preferred the uphill side but the other racer went along the fence line, so it made sense to simply do the same. As I got to the slower rider he started moving me toward the fence, I was quickly running out of room even though I had given him the “easy” side of the trail. I was desperately wishing I was over in that comparatively huge space to his left…
On the fast laps I was going 20 mph in this area – I was going 17 when I hit the fence. Well, really the first thing I hit was a tall wooden pole (think telephone). Thankfully, I was able to scrub off some speed with my head because the next thing to hit it was my previously separated shoulder, the arm that’s attached to it, my right hand, face, leg, bike, spin around 180 degrees, get the other side scraped up some, and land in a twisted, tangled mess of my bike and “Mr. Bike Skills” in the middle of the trail. THIS IS FRIGGIN’ AWESOME!!!
So, after I had led with my head into the pole, the blackberry bushes and chain link had grabbed my bike and a bunch of my skin before letting gravity finish me off by throwing me backward into the same fence and then to the ground. The up-side is that none of the guys behind us ran me over. They just yelled that we should get out of the way… Really..? Thanks for the tip.
I looked around and saw that the other fellow had his eyes open (WIDE OPEN) and I asked if he was okay… I simply got a blank stare – similar, I believe, to what I would have seen just before he made contact with me. I said “on your right” one last time, picked up my stuff and rode toward the railroad tie run-up.
sometimes bike races are lonely...
As I climbed the hill the spectators were screaming at me to go harder “IT’S A BIKE RACE NOT A NATURE WALK!!!” Hey, shut the F*** up, I’m having a moment… Apparently they hadn’t noticed that the right side of my body looked just like I’d been attacked by a pack of angry elves armed with cheese graters – well, spectators need beer too.
post crash - working back through the field
I just kept pedaling the bike and focused on staying upright. As I was able to identify others in my class, I would gain motivation and make progress. I could see the two guys that had been just behind me when I crashed and put some effort into reaching them. With one lap to go I was close so I pushed, with success. As we approached an open area before the long power pulls to the finish I could see another (tuned out to be a lapper) and cleared him with enough of a gap to take some care in the fast pavement sweeper leading into the finish line complex. I had made it back to 5th – All was well.
My crash partner was leaving the First Aid tent as I got there. The medic was sending him to the hospital with a suspected broken collar bone. I’m not particularly happy about that, but better him than me… I’ll evaluate how I’ve been choosing my passing zones and maybe make some changes in the future. I’m torn between the ideas of getting potential problems behind me as quickly as possible and being extra careful. I’ve seen the “extra careful” thing backfire too many times.
Hopefully, as I gain experience, the proper balance will come into focus. On to Alpenrose and the Crusade…
Cyclocross has been a big deal to some of the guys I ride with in Hood River for a long time. I’ve never completely figured it out, because sometimes it looks like it’s just a way for hopelessly insufferable, wannabe bikey hipsters from Portland to endear themselves to the cycling community… Thankfully, that’s mostly untrue – many of the guys (and girls) are bad fast and it has always looked like everybody has loads of fun. So, for years it seems, I would plan to acquire a bike – nothing fancy, just something that would work better than a mountain bike or converted road beater.
In "cross" time is spent carrying the bike and tripping over obstacles
Last year, I finally pulled the trigger – which means that I had a bike by the time the season was about half over. This is a “cross” tradition born either from the reality that bike shops don’t want to stock a bunch of “weird” bike stuff that will be useless by the time Christmas rolls around (and until September of the next year), or a massive conspiracy to prove “you’re not cool enough”. Your bike will be here next week, er September, I mean mid October…
Anyway, the bike showed up and I figured that since the guys I ride on the road with are racing in the Masters B category (the equivalent of Cat 3 on the road), that I should do the same. WRONG. First, if you start at the back (there is another conspiracy to guarantee this), you will likely stay there. The courses can be quite technical which is problematic for a guy that doesn’t spend much time on a mountain bike anymore – that means passing is hard. I struggled to get into the middle third of the pack. I sucked.
It seems there were always 100 guys in the races. And, the line-up is done by lottery based on the last digit of your race number – my number was never in the top half of the guys that started at the back half of the race. I have come to believe that this is because I was new and cyclocross has another special math based conspiracy to determine these things. I was definitely going to need a new plan for this year.
Each cross event has about 90 different races split up by different combinations of age, experience and sex (there are no fewer than three of those, as near as I can tell). There is always somebody (something) to race with and I would like to do well, but I really don’t want to be a sandbagger (those that race a category easier so they can win the beer prizes which are based on more “randomly” generated combinations of numbers).
This year, even though I’m 49, I can race as a 50 year old (another tricky numbers thing – but it says so on my racing license). They have a geezer class in cross that starts at 50. Surely, there would be fewer age 50 plus riders, so starting at the back wouldn’t be as far back, and since its age based – no sandbagging… The only problem is that, like road racing, there exists the possibility of x-pros in the field (or guys that are just plain fast). But hey, if I can be the “new kid”, I’m going to check it out – and how many fast guys that age could there be, anyway..?
"Team Dirks" debrief
Double Cross in Hood River is when the Mountain View team starts it’s cross season. Pretty much everybody gets involved, including the kids which is super fun. This would be my first time doing these races, which is hard to believe given how long I’ve been riding bicycles. Day one would be at the High School and day two would be at the Hood River County Fairgrounds in Odell.
“Masters 50” races along with “Masters B” (age 35+, where I raced last year), so comparisons between the two would be easy and I would still kind of get to race with my buddies. We started one minute behind the B’s (about 35 of them, 25 of us) and it was clear while waiting for the start that a few of the old guys were going to make it through a lot of the B field. The High School course is kind of wide and / or grassy in a lot of places, so passing wouldn’t be a huge issue and the start was easier than I expected.
I settled into a top 10 position early and just rode my heart rate for the first couple of laps. Now, I have issues running in the red zone – I don’t like it. It’s probably that I’m lazy – I just don’t have a very high “suffering index”. In cross, however, red zone is what it’s all about – go till you blow. I ended up in a race with two other guys (two of us chasing the other with a gap that varied between about 1 and 10 seconds).
I had backed off a bit with 3 laps to go with the idea that I could deliver a big, demoralizing and crushing blow to the others at the beginning of the last lap. My heart rate was low in zone 5 and if the other guys were redlined (like I expected they were), I would win the mini “race within a race”. As we crossed start / finish at the beginning of the last lap, the scorer shouted out “you’re done” – WTF? I had made a stupid rookie mistake and didn’t see that the lap board had gone from 2 to zero as we approached the line – the guy that had been following me for two laps did see it and put a wheel on me at the finish. There’s nothing wrong with that, but I don’t make that kind of mistake – well, except this time… F*** me. I was ninth.
racing round the rabbit barn
I figured the Fairgrounds course wouldn’t suit me because it was less technical. As it turns out, even though my bike handling skills are in the toilet lately, I am blessed with good line selection capabilities so that even when my bike doesn’t go exactly where I wanted it to it is still close to being “on line”. Being on line makes it possible to start pedaling earlier when exiting corners (the same principal that applies to cars) – this is important on a “non-technical” course like Sunday’s because it had lots of “easy” turns.
As we were staging for the race there was a line of guys in the front row and I parked my bike behind them. Minutes passed and occasionally somebody would push through to the front – a couple of guys simply went around and backed into the front of the line-up. I thought these guys are being awfully aggressive for a bunch of old f***ers – some of them are going to beat me, but not all of them. There is something about the protocol that I don’t get.
Then as we rolled up to stage I found myself in the back row – I’m really not very good at this. Several of the guys were suggesting that we take it easy until we get to the grass – we’re all here “to have fun” I think is how it goes… I had already made one rookie mistake this weekend so screw that. Besides, I think it would be more “fun” to be nearer the pointy end. The way I see it these guys had started racing when they forced their way to the front – once we “switch on”, it’s on…
I was able to make it around most of the line barging hipsters by the end of the long start straight and a few more as we went through the first barriers. When things settled down I was in the top 10 which I was comfortable with. My decent late corner acceleration was making it possible for me to stay close to the fast guys at the start of the race. I was worried that my legs would be tired from Saturday’s 45 minute effort in the red zone, but I felt better than expected. I don’t think cross’ effect on the body is as much like road racing’s non-stop prolonged efforts as I expected it would be. But still, I need to do a lot of work before I can stay with those top 4 or 5 guys.
Eric Moody (E2) blasting up the inside
Like Saturday, I had a really fun race with a few other guys on Sunday. There were always three of us within a few seconds. Mid-way through the race I felt the rear tire briefly roll off the rim (I’m still riding clinchers which do that at the lower pressures used in cross). I was convinced I wouldn’t make it to the end of the race as it felt like the tire was going flat. I checked it a couple of times and it seemed that it hadn’t lost all of its air so I was able to ride carefully to a sixth place finish. At the finish line it was totally flat – better lucky than good.
Cross is fun and it has been good for my fitness – its forcing me to run in the red zone for prolonged periods which is exactly the kind of training I’ve been missing (that laziness thing again). I’ve also successfully kept the bike from hitting the ground after loosing traction several times which is good for my bike handling confidence. Afterward everybody gets beer and French fries. How cool is that?
This cross thing is growing on me.
p.s. Cross races are also fun to watch on fall weekends – that’s how I originally got suckered in. In Portland, Cross Crusadeis the big deal.
Note: Before I was “un-banned” I wrote a post that, while it included an important part of the story, was unusually sarcastic (I must have been in a grumpy mood when I wrote it…). As I believe that this post contributed to the eventual resolution, I wanted to republish it in a more appropriate version – basically, I just took some stuff out.
I’ve had time now to edit it in a way that still maintains the original meaning without being unnecessarily demeaning… This is the edited version.
Conference Takes a Mulligan
I finally received an email late this afternoon. The gist is that now I have been fined per a different “Conference Regulation”. I suppose the up-side is that I am no longer “banned”.
Here is the content of that email:
After consulting with the parties articulated below, as of September 7, 2009 you have been fined for unsportsmanlike conduct per C/R 609. This is the extent of your penalty. You are welcome to appeal according to the procedure outlined in the Competition Regulations, but be advised that the while the fine is outstanding, you are automatically disqualified from participating in all Conference races and events. You will also be receiving, or have already received this info in writing in the mail.
So, after deducing that my challenge of their use of “E 404” (the rule that grants the License Director ultimate authority) to require an apology was indeed well founded, they have switched to a fine based on C/R 609. Well, at least we can agree about something…
Still, these guys can’t even be bothered to read their own rules. According to C/R 102 the Competition Regulations (C/R’s) “apply to every ICSCC sanctioned event.” The issue we’re discussing didn’t happen at an ICSCC event – as previously documented, it happened on this blog.
I had a little bit of time this morning and wanted to fill in some of the details of how the ICSCC officers have handled the disagreement they have with me. My race weekend with them has been reasonably well documented and most of you know the story. I had a good time and wrote about the experience – it was a pretty good story. This explanation is so that members of Conference can have a better understanding of how their club works.
First, I have many very good friends that race in Conference. I like most of the people there, and in some cases the feeling is mutual. The people that do most of the work that make the racing possible are awesome. As a matter of fact, I went into the last race weekend with a favorable attitude regarding the current crop of upper level Conference Officials, as well. That attitude would be short lived, however. The problem still is that some people that aspire to the “top of the club” act like a bunch of 8th grade bullies once they get there.
The analogy is that at a middle school the 8th graders are the “big kids” and there are always a few that have to show the new kids who is boss. It’s just the way life is, I suppose – some kids are just mean and pick on the smaller kids. Sometimes they grow out of it… Sometimes they become Conference Stewards.
My original story about my experience racing Conference included a description of a Conference Official that, in my view, is likely a serial bully. That description is what the Conference License Director took offense to, and is the original source of Conference’s problem with me. A problem that the License Director believed warranted a removal of my racing privileges. I was “banned” for writing a story.
This is the passage from an email I received from the I.C.S.C.C. License Director dated August 19 that explains his position:
Per E 404., all non-ICSCC licensed entries are subject to my approval as License Director. There are no qualifiers on this approval. Sportsmanship is one of the criteria that I apply when making approval decisions. I find both your conduct, and demeanor, to be unsportsmanlike, and therefore I do not approve of your entry, in any future ICSCC sanctioned event.
There was a phone call and several emails that went back and forth related to this passage, but that is the important paragraph. There was a demand that I apologize without an offer of an apology for the way I had been treated by their bully – WTF, is this some kind of a joke..? I did ask for a clarification regarding specifically what the issue was and I received this – an excerpt from my story:
“Captain Rule Book” then rode away on his motorcycle (sans helmet) his shirt flapping around his over the shoulder walkie-talkie holster like a moo-moo worn by a Hawaiian grandmother on a breezy Maui evening. I wonder if Adolf knows that Portland is a city park and is therefore not exempt from the Oregon motorcycle helmet law..? This guy is serious Mall Cop material.
From my perspective, this is what the issues are:
I was “banned” from racing with Conference until I apologized to a bully (not going to happen).
The License Director had quoted the ICSCC rule book to affirm his position that he has the final say.
Most importantly, the banishment was for an issue that may fall under “freedom of press” protections.
My response was to suggest that the License Director (and Conference) get his story straight and engage in some CYA (cover your ass).
“Power corrupts”, but usually there is a place within a racing organization to air grievances. An example is that I was racing in an SCCA Pro Racing series where the Series Steward often behaved like an unreasonable jerk. He had the “final say”, but there was a series sponsor (with a representative) that was interested in resolving differences – we could go to him. The jerk was eventually replaced. In Conference, Per E 404 (see above) there is no higher authority. I went to the rule book and the License Director is correct – he has the final say should he choose to use it. And he did – “absolute power corrupts, absolutely.”
I continue to believe that ridicule is a useful tool when dealing with bullies. I also believe that what happens away from the track (provided it is within the law) should have no bearing on the approval of things like racing licenses. To this day, I have not received an apology or a retraction of the License Directors invocation of ICSCC Rule E 404. I have submitted an entry for the ICSCC race that takes place this weekend, and the registrar indicated that a resolution would be forthcoming (to save me the trouble of preparing a car and making the tow for nothing).
I believe this really is the case of one bad apple spoiling the bunch. I think that the License Director is probably a pretty good guy that has simply been immersed in a culture that protects its own – no matter the reason… The 8th graders are going to show me who is boss. They know that E 404 was a lame call, but now they won’t do the right thing and correct the mistake. I wonder what’s going to happen walking home from school on Friday…
I will continue to push back on this – because I do have friends that race in Conference and I think it is time for somebody to finally call BS on this crap. There is also Oregon case law that makes clear the responsibilities of organizations that conduct events on public property (like PIR for example). Conference doesn’t care about little guys like me, but they (and the clubs that make them up) are on the wrong side of that law – maybe they care about that…
There are not words sufficient to describe how cool it is that a bunch of guys that like racing were able to pull something like this off. Seriously, they are 99.9 percent of the way to a functioning racing facility.
Being from Hood River it seems that we are among the closest active racing residents to this new facility – that makes it even cooler for us. So Sunday, Garth Levin, Jonny Davies and I visited Oregon Raceway Park for the first time since we had attended a tour in November of 2006, shortly after they had cut the original path through the fields that now contain the race track.
This is going to be a challenging place to race. It seems that first they will run races in the clockwise direction, but the track was conceived with the notion that it could be run counter clockwise, as well. I think it looks much better clockwise than counter. My biggest concern is turn 1 in the counter direction – it will be fast and scary, and it doesn’t get really scary until you leave the track. There is a nice place to land the medivac helicopter near where the cars will finally finish crashing, though. I think it will be a while before this track races in that direction. Everything else I’m worried about looks like it could be handled by mid-week.
Jonny Davies was the driver on Sunday – he is one of the finest amateur race drivers in the country. I was in attendance to collect data and help with the car – the same car that I’ve been racing this year and was used in the 12 Hours of the Cascades and 25 Hours of Thunderhill last fall. Garth came along to fix anything I broke while working on the car.
We use the AiM data acquisition system in all of the cars and I also gathered some video, and for one session taped a small Garmin GPS device to the dash. Here are some interesting factoids from his second session in the clockwise direction:
Top speed (clockwise) – 98.8 mph
Best Lap Time (clockwise) – 2:04.671
Elevation Gain / Loss – approx 400 ft
To put things into perspective, Pacific Raceways, the track with the most elevation gain and loss in the Northwest, has about 140 ft change per lap. According to our little GPS unit (with a slow sampling rate), ORP is somewhere around 400 ft in just over the same distance!!!
It is a shame that there will not be a race at ORP this year. It was on the ICSCC schedule up until last week, and then it seems a new interpretation of some rules ended the fun. For sure, there are still some safety issues to work out. But, in racing anything is possible as long as everybody pulls in the same direction – for some reason they aren’t.
Again, I can’t say how impressed I am by this group of people that did what many thought was impossible. This is an awesome accomplishment and the sooner ORP is raced on the quicker the issues of amenities and safety will be addressed, and the facility expanded.
A couple of years ago, a big fall storm / flood destroyed several bridges on Oregon Hwys 35 and 26 making it impossible to reach the Mt. Hood Meadows Ski Area for several weeks. During the same storm, the bridge that crosses the Hood River just west of Parkdale (the middle fork, I think) was lost, as well.
In order to use the route that crosses over Vista Ridge to Red Hill Road between Lolo Pass Road and Parkdale, it is necessary to cross the river. There are no homes west of the river, so nobody knows (or cares particularly) when the road will open again. But, it is kind of a cool ride and we’ve all ridden it many times as it was previously part of the Road Race Course for the Mt. Hood Cycling Classic.
some did it the hard way
Eric Sletmoe had crossed the river recently from the Parkdale side and was able to persuade the rest of us that it would be a good route for the Saturday morning Hood River Group Ride that leaves from Ground Coffee Shop at 8am. Lara had made the portage, as well, and 8 o’clock is too early to argue about stuff like this, anyway…
The ride is pretty incredible, as it uses a lot of National Forest Service road that pretty much goes to “nowhere”. The tricky part is that around here “nowhere” is usually “up there somewhere”, so there’s going to be some climbing.
I haven’t totally figured out the NFS road labeling system, but I think it’s something like this – 2 digit numbers are paved, 4 digit numbers are spurs of 2 digit numbers and if they end with a zero, they are kind of paved. Avoid the odd numbered 4 digit variety – we did some four digits with zeros – they were just fine.
watering hole in Parkdale
In any case, we made it safely on pretty good roads, and since we crossed the river relatively early in the day the water level was pretty low. Most of us took our shoes off so that we could walk across the temporary “bridges” that had been made and our feet never even got wet.
We stopped at The Taqueria for some burritos afterward and it all made for a pretty good day.
When I am wrong I like to correct the mistake. In the story I wrote recently about my experience racing with the ICSCC (Conference) I made an error in the use of the word muu muu. I spelled it moo-moo.
I sincerely apologize to anyone (native Hawaiian speakers?) that was offended by this heinous mistake.
Also, there is some confusion regarding the meaning and origin of the word so I have included it below.
Racing has rules and that’s good. In my view the primary focus of rules should be safety and after that fun and fairness. Fun and fairness are very closely related as you really won’t have much of one without the other. But sometimes, you just need to use your head – That’s why it’s called Racing instead of Ruling.
Except for the 12 Hours of the Cascades Enduro, the last time I entered a International Conference of Sports Car Clubs race (Conference) was 1987. The reason is that they’re kind of goofy – not the people so much, I really enjoy most of them, but the club / event dynamics are just different from anything I’m used to. It often starts well, and then one of them comes along and sucks all the fun right out of it, like a chaperon at an all night party – don’t you guys have something better to do?
The beginning: When Kirk Knestis and I showed up for my first Conference race in late summer of 1984 they needed to classify our current IMSA Renault Cup car. So, we brought all of the required documentation and based upon the weight and listed horsepower it would be placed in I Production (the slowest of the slow, but it would have qualified for J Production, had it existed – it was that slow). The Tech Steward, of course, declared that a 55 horsepower 1984 Renault Alliance would be H Production (one class faster) because it was a “Pro” car. Seriously? They hadn’t even invented crack yet back then… The conversation that followed nearly got me banned for life – in hindsight, that would have been okay.
Now I know that I’m a bit tightly wound and that I’m not particularly shy about sharing my views – this can be problematic when you have a rigorously vigilant “ruling” class. But, if I’m at a Conference race it’s because I’m simply trying to have a good time. There is no pressure at one of these deals – sometimes the racing is fun and the people are mostly awesome. But, “up one class because of the IMSA sticker?”
Despite the initial experience, for a few years we would occasionally show up at a Conference race. They raced at Westwood, for example, and that was a spectacular place to be. Its fun to be able to say that we raced there, Westwood is racing history and it’s one of the neat things that have happened to me that might not have happened without Conference.
But, something weird would always happen. I’ll never forget the guy that stormed into my pit to admonish me for causing him to shunt himself at the end of the front straight at Westwood. I was driving a borrowed old formula ford and one of the self proclaimed Conference heroes misjudged his braking trying to follow me through turn one. We discussed the fact that I was indeed on the racing line and that no I hadn’t blocked him, the issue was… well, I’m not so sure what it was exactly. The advantage of learning to race in cars with tired old motors is that you get used to not using the brakes so much (in Renault Cup the middle pedal meant a quick and certain relegation to the back of the pack) – this is sometimes confusing to the other guys and they crash. So, Kirk and I patiently listened to his story about how I had caused his crash and then proceeded to laugh so hard that we nearly pissed ourselves. I am certain that one of the 135 pages of the Conference rule book addresses that, too. Chapter 8, Section D, Paragraph 2 “You have dribbled down your leg – START AT THE BACK!!!”
One night at Portland, while sleeping in our tent next to the cars (the tent met the constraints of our lodging budget), we were awakened by a noise. There was a drunk either sleeping in or trying to steel our race car – we never worked out which, for sure… I’ve been blatantly “brake checked” twice – yeah, Conference license holders… Now, I know that stuff like this happens at other places, it’s just that it usually happens to me at Conference races.
I have a lot of very good friends that race now or have a history in Conference – they are all a bit easier going than I am, but I like hanging out and racing with them anyway. One of my old racing friends, Hal Hilton, was the Chief Steward or Grand Poo-Bah (whatever they call them) recently, and Hal is an extremely smart and fair guy – maybe things have changed there, I hoped.
Because of the approaching endurance racing season and the availability of a car for me to drive, this past weekend was the best opportunity for some seat time and fun in preparation. This was a chance to pit and hang out with my friend Ted Rees, his father Phil and their families. They have a great laid back approach and fun attitude that would be nice for a change. The Miatacage.com enduro car just needed a shake down to make sure all of the systems and a few new parts were working properly. They’re not.
The car started showing signs of a possible switching / starting problem at Rose Cup – it wouldn’t start hot. We thought it was a bad connection somewhere and checked and cleaned the usual culprits. We would chase the worsening problem for the rest of the weekend and eventually get to learn about some special Conference racing rules – here we go again…
For example, while leaving the track after ITA qualifying on Saturday a Tech Steward approached the car and in a rather nasty tone asked “where are your gloves?” I showed him that I owned some as he barked back at me about leaving them on until I was back inside the paddock.
Understand, the track was in a red flag condition (closed) and I was traveling at about 5 mph. If I had stopped the car in the hot pits during the session and got out, I surely would not have put a helmet or gloves on to move it back to the paddock after the checkered flag. Isn’t there really something better to be spending our energy on? “Captain Rule Book” then rode away on his motorcycle (sans helmet) his shirt flapping around his over the shoulder walkie-talkie holster like a moo-moo worn by a Hawaiian grandmother on a breezy Maui evening. I wonder if Adolf knows that Portland is a city park and is therefore not exempt from the Oregon motorcycle helmet law..? This guy is serious Mall Cop material.
Ted, Phil, Roger (Phil’s pit lackey) and pit guru Garth “Crusher” Levin all had to listen to me go on about how it had started all over again with these “Conference guys”. I mean, it’s like they want you to fail – I imagine them in their trailers at night working out ways to “trick” the new guys. “Let’s give the 5 minute warning at 8 minutes to go – we can put it at the bottom of the supps and maybe some of them will miss it…”
Ted and I had a great time in practice and qualifying on Saturday. We drove around playing race car dodge ball with the rest of the kids. Most of the drivers are pretty attentive, but there are a handful that either don’t have mirrors on their cars or just haven’t worked out the details of how to best utilize them. Qualifying went well for me. Ted and I were first and second in ITA and I managed to out-qualify my Miatacage.com team mate / rivals Will Schrader and Gary Bockman for the provisional pole in Spec Miata.
Qualifying on Sunday was uneventful as Garth, Ken Sutherland and I spent most of the morning chasing the electrical problem. I didn’t improve my times but kept the ITA pole and was bumped to the outside of the front row for SM by Will Schrader. I was really looking forward to the race with Gary and Will, those guys are gladiators – it would be one hell of a show…
We had come up with a solution to the electrical problem. The battery was taking a charge and the car was starting afterward. We would simply keep the car on the charger until it was time to roll up and then we would go to grid, start and race. This worked well for ITA – the car started and the race was a yawner. I started on the 3rd row behind several cars in faster classes – I survived the chicane and drove away from everyone behind me – no drama. Conference allows a crew member to ride in the car on the victory lap – Garth rode with me. I suppose it’s safer to have somebody besides the driver hold the checkered flag one receives to commemorate a victory. Garth wasn’t wearing gloves (or helmet, suit, ass in seat, seat belts)… Safety first, Colonel Klink – “ATTENTION SECURITY – THERE IS A SKATEBOARDER NEAR THE ELEVATORS BY VICTORIA’S SECRET…”
Anyhow, we tried to start the car to go to grid for SM and it refused. So our impromptu plan was to roll up before the five minute warning and let the car run. There are a couple of options in SCCA to deal with a problematic starter – neither work in Conference. If you are not on grid by the 5 minute warning (8 minutes before the start of the race, as it turns out) you start at the back. AND, you cannot bump start the car on the grid – especially after the one minute warning, and double especially if you were in the process of negotiating with the officials regarding the first offense. “YOU WILL START AT THE BACK!!!” TIMES TWO!!!
I was in violation of a rule – I get that. Okay, two rules. Here’s the thing, Conference makes the outsiders run 3 digit numbers that begin with a 7. I don’t know or care why, but I do know that this makes it possible for them to easily and immediately identify non-Conference drivers. They have a rule that they very well know is in conflict with what anybody with a 700 series number on their car is used to. It’s a simple procedural violation and a matter of a steward’s discretion. If I were in charge (God forbid), I Would make a point of helping these easily identified ”customers” understand the differences in the rules rather than berate them with snarky remarks, regarding gloves for example, and race ruining penalties – but that’s just me. The amateur anthropologist in me has come up with a solution to this “Conference Problem” – try something a little bit more predictable, like vodka.
Mike Blaszczak, the steward in question regarding the grid issues, knows how I feel about this. We discussed it twice and my parting remark was essentially – I’m not coming back (it was a little bit stronger than that the second time, and I apologize if he was offended by my language). I’ll probably back off on that eventually, but not very soon unless somebody else is paying the bills.
My pit-mate for the weekend, Ted, had an interesting Sunday, as well. He had to work his way from the back of the field in the ITA race after a first lap spin and was then taken out along with Chris Heinrich (the CSM points leader) by another dive bombing Miata on the second lap of the race. Mike, the aforementioned Steward, had declared that event to be a “racing incident” as it was due to brake failure. I queried him as to whether Conference had any rules about maintaining incidental equipment (like brakes) – he said that those things are ”up to the driver”. Oki-doki.
These stiff car-prep requirements also shed light on the 5 laps it took to black flag the car with the bar-b-que in its trunk during the ITA race. The stewards were looking at the car carefully (I could see them as I motioned that maybe something might be wrong…”SHE’S ON FIRE, FRED!!!). It turns out they were working out whether it was chicken or ribs. It must have been ribs – the chicken would have taken at least 8 laps. I have no idea how these guys keep their 5’s and 8’s sorted out…
In the final analysis, I had some fun. It was great to talk to and meet a lot of the Spec Miata drivers I hadn’t seen for a while. Importantly, the car came back without a single new mark on it, I’ve got some fun video to share and I confirmed that neither Conference nor I have changed – I’ll take that deal 5,000 (8,000) times.
The thing that finally turned the weekend around for the better is when a group of workers drove by (as we were debriefing with some frosty cold beverages), to say how much they had enjoyed the DFL to 3rd drive (it was a bit more colorful than that). Those guys get drenched, frozen, sun burnt and risk their lives because they love the sport. I’ll start from the rear every time if it makes them want to come back. Other than the time John Bradshaw told me he had just watched me win the best race he’d seen in over 10 years, that’s about the best compliment a guy like me can receive.
